


On Bended Knee

by littlestdeath



Category: Damien (TV)
Genre: Breathplay, Cock & Ball Torture, Cock Cages, F/M, Jealousy, Light Dom/sub, M/M, Manipulation, Post-Series, Un-Negotiated Kink, Violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-06-19
Updated: 2016-08-22
Packaged: 2018-07-16 01:34:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,337
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7246885
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/littlestdeath/pseuds/littlestdeath
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This was Damien Thorn, the object of his obsession, the reason Patrick had fled with their son Jacob. The reason he had been suspended from the force. The cause of the madness that had consumed him.<br/>And yet.<br/>It was Damien Thorn, the object of his obsession</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Apparently on a roll. Let me know what other Tags you think ought to be added.
> 
> Enjoy!

Damien’s warehouse became his palace.

Rutledge tried to get him to move into her house, then to buy his own house near the city. He wouldn’t be swayed. She offered him the luxury suite that existed secretly on the top three floors of the Armitage building.

Damien went to see them out of curiosity. She had obviously had them done to appeal to him, please him.

He stroked her cheek and told her no. His warehouse was his, the place he had built for himself for his work. Nothing else would do. She pursed her lips and asked if she might be permitted to add to the security of the building, to place guards. Damien gave her permission and then patted her gnarled hand.

“Asking will get you far more, Ann, than manipulation ever did.”

She had the grace to look ashamed. She had the dignity to apologize on bended knee. Damien liked her a little more every day.

Detective James Shay consulted on the security. He knew every trick of every low life he had ever put away, and some of the bigger ones he had read about in confidential police reports. The electronic security was pristine, the guard rotation subtle and elegant.

Rutledge offered him a job. Damien told him to say no, and then sat down with the man and worked out their own contract between the two of them. Shay was conflicted to say the least. This was Damien Thorn, the object of his obsession, the reason Patrick had fled with their son Jacob. The reason he had been suspended from the force. The cause of the madness that had consumed him.

And yet.

It was Damien Thorn, the object of his obsession. The one who had fixed his mistake (her brains and blood and skull had splattered all over his face and he had screamed at the sky and like a miracle he had made all well again), the one he wanted to get on his knees for. He had seen the power of him, that night. He knew Damien was the source. He knew that if he stayed with him, the chance of life and death were the same.

He didn’t know what to do except move forward. It was all he could do. He knew his boss was working collecting evidence to fire him for cause. Trying to get his ammo refilled (one shot, a perfect shot he couldn’t be proud of, only ashamed) was only going to throw up more red flags.

So he resigned from police force. Signed a contract with Damien Thorn and became his personal bodyguard. He didn’t go home until the security for the warehouse was perfect, slept on a thin mattress on the concrete floor. He walked into the house he shared with husband and child and saw a letter on the table from Patrick asking James to call him once he was ready.

They sat and talked. Patrick was horrified by his decision. Working for the man he thought was a vicious murderer? What was he thinking? What about job security? What about his retirement fund? What was James thinking?

“I’m doing what’s best for us.” He said, holding Patrick’s hand. Couldn’t his husband see? Damien Thorn was going to be the most important man in the world.

“This obsession, are you in love with him?” Patrick asked, voice wavering.

“No,” James said and reached out for Patrick. He pulled away from James. He didn’t allow him to see Jacob. They argued. James left when he realized he wanted to hit Patrick.

Rutledge came to him the next day. Patrick was looking at his options for involuntary commitment and treatment. He was convinced that James needed help, to be saved from himself. He was also becoming more convinced that something was wrong with Damien Thorn.

“He’s met with the police.” She said gently.

“I’ll handle it,” He insisted.

He went to Damien.

“I don’t want her to kill them. I don’t want them dead.” He pleaded.

Damien sat on his couch, legs spread arms along the back, watching with dark eyes.

“I don’t know what to do.” He confessed

Damien stood and drew near. James stared him in the eye, begging without words.

“Do you want to leave me?” Damien asked quietly.

“No!” Instant. Vehement.

Damien’s lips twitched into a brief, pleased, smile. “But your husband doesn’t agree with you being here.”

“I just need to talk some sense into him. Please, let me bring him to you. If he sees you he’ll understand.”

“Do you believe that?”

James closed his eyes.

“You have to make a choice, James,” Damien cupped the back of James’ neck and pressed their foreheads together. “Either you leave me, and take your husband and child away from here and forget all of this. Or you make him leave you so that he’ll stop meddling in things he shouldn’t.”

James get papers from a lawyer, brings them to Patrick. Divorce, house ownership, child guardianship, all done up so it’s all for Patrick to take. Patrick weeps bitterly and Jacob watched his stoically. When he’s evaluated to see if involuntary commitment is a viable option, he plays at being done with pretending to be gay, makes comments about the paycheck he’s getting now and the kinds of places he can spend it, and how Armitage is a great employer.

Patrick if left looking like a jilted lover trying to get even. He signs the papers and sells the house and leaves with Jacob to a different state. Before they part for the last time, Jacob runs to hug James one last time.

“The Devil has you now.” Jacob whispered.

“I know. He’s beautiful.” James whispered back.

They parted. Jacob didn’t watch James as they pulled away. He chatted happily to his other father instead, already forgetting everything as the influence of the Anti-Christ falls away.

James moves in permanently into Damien’s warehouse. Damien smiled and welcomed him with open arms.


	2. Chapter 2

Damien still does photography. He leaves most of the details to Rutledge and the other members of Armitage. He commands them rarely.

James follows Damien wherever he goes. He doesn’t hold any of the equipment as that would leave his hands full if he needs them. And he does need them. The Vatican’s people are everywhere, assassins a constant threat. One of the crew for the electric security installation had been an agent of the Pope. James had had to redo the whole thing.

But those were straight forward. Identify the threat and eliminate it. Harder to deal with were the faithful.

They loved him. He was their king. Women, men, they all threw themselves at Damien. Usually he said no. Sometimes he said yes. James stood outside the bedroom area, back turned ostensibly to give them privacy, but he kept his eyes fixed on the mirror turned just so to give him a line of sight. He kept a hand on his gun.

It was always women. James watched them with a sharp eye, had to. He watched for a knife or a needle covered in poison or a strong thread to serve as a garrote. Three out of ten tried to kill him. James stopped them all.

No.

Be honest.

He killed them all.

He, former beat cop, former detective. Murderer now.

When the guilt was too much he knelt at the foot of Damien’s bed in the night and muffled his weeping in the end of his blanket. He was never sure if Damien knew. If he approved or disproved.

But in the moment, he never felt guilt. They were trying to kill Damien. So he remained alert. Watched. When his eyes fell on Damien, the flex of muscles in his back and buttocks, the place where his hard member took his pleasure from her, his mouth grew dry and his own cock stiffened.

He wanted.

“He’s going to be hurt, eventually.” Simone said one day.

“I’ll stop it.” he promised.

“He won’t fuck me,” she said, rubbing tired eyes, “I’ve offered. He still remembers Kelly.”

James said nothing. Didn’t look at her.

“He’s someone to fuck that can be trusted.”

“He fucks women.”

Simone smiled, “He’s not straight.”

James didn’t believe her, but he didn’t say it out loud.

Three nights later, one of the women managed to smuggle a razor blade inside her mouth. In the struggle, she knocked his weapon away. He choked her to death with his bare hands on the bed, Damien reclining next to him, cock jutting hard from between his legs. When it was done and he was on hands and knees over her, panting, he became aware of Damien’s hand stroking his lower back.

“Thank you, James.” He whispered and pressed a tiny kiss to his temple. “I’ll go finish while you take care of her body.” Damien got up, cock ruddy and tip beading with pre-come and sauntered over to his bathroom. James watched him go, cock hard in his slacks.

He foisted the body off onto the men on guard outside. They knew how to take care of it. James went to the bathroom. The door was open. He went in.

Damien was leaning against the sink, lazily stroking himself.

“All the other’s let me finish,” he remarked to James, twisting his hand over the tip. His breath hitched. “It’s always so much better when there’s a warm hole to finish in.” he looked at James from under his eyelashes.

James swallowed. “Simone talked to you.”

“Yes. And Rutledge.”

“You’ve never fucked a man.”

“I’ve never fucked a man that you’ve seen.” Damien corrected easily, casually, as though the very idea of Damien fucking men didn’t make James’ knees quiver, make his chest tight. “The first woman I brought here was because she was easy. But the look on your face when you saw me bring her in here, and when I made you escort her out…” he laughed, a little breathless, hand still moving on his cock.

“Then I realized you’ll never make a move if I don’t allow it. You’ve always been the most obedient. It’s the solider in you, always looking for your commander’s go ahead.” Damien let go of his cock and pressed his hands to either side of the sink.

“Go on. _Go ahead_.”

James was on his knees in an instant. He crawled to Damien, eyes on that thick red cock. He took it all in his mouth in one go, deep into his throat, savoring. Damien moaned and James’ eyes rolled.

“Your _mouth_ ,” Damien’s hips thrust, choking James a little. He tried to pull back. Damien’s hand was on the back of his head in an instant. “No, you don’t decide what you can take. I do.”

James’ cock jerked. It had been so long since he’d done this. Patrick had preferred bottoming, and James had loved him, had pleased his husband as he’d desired. But here, like this, James was-

“No thinking. Just take it.” Damien started thrusting, holding James’ head in place with one large hand and stroking his jaw with the other. James stopped thinking. It was like flipping a switch. His hands rested on top of his thighs, his jaw stayed lax, and his back perfectly straight as Damien face-fucked him. James was just a hole for Damien to use. Warm and willing, with no desires of his own except what Damien permits him.

He choked on Damien’s cock, red faced, spit and pre-come dripping down his chin and onto his shirt, and loved it. Loved the pain, loved the pleasure. Loved it more than he had ever loved having sex with his husband. He was flying on it. His eyes were fixed on Damien’s face, watching his mouth pant and eyes grow darker as his pleasure heightened.

With a short cry Damien thrust to the very back of his throat and came. James swallowed it all. Damien’s hips jerked in short little thrusts, milking his own orgasm in the tightness of James’ throat. Eyes watering and lungs burning, James’ held perfectly still until Damien pulled out with a sigh, soft.

James wiped his chin and licked the mess off his hand. Damien watched, flushed and still hungry looking.

“You didn’t come.” He said, neutral. The answer popped out of James’ mouth before he could stop it.

“Master didn’t say I was allowed to.”

Damien smiled and cupped James’ face.

“Make sure you shave your beard before tomorrow night. I’m not a fan of the burn.”

James’ eyes fluttered shut.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> New tags up top.

James was naked in the bathroom.

Damien was in the living room reading a book, and James was naked in the bathroom staring in the mirror. Face and chest and under his arms. All clean skin. Damien had told him to ignore his groin and legs. He looked… younger. Not vulnerable, no. He’d never been that. Just… younger.

He dressed carefully. No underwear, so jeans first, left open, belt loose. Under shirt, tucked into the jeans at the back. Button down carefully done up and tucked in next to his undershirt. Jeans buttoned and zipped. Belt pulled tight.

Deep breathe in. Out.

He went into the living room.      

“Just like I asked.” Damien smiled. James went to his knees at his feet, breath shuddering, eyes lowered and lashes fluttering. He kept his back straight his arms tucked against his lower back. Damien’s foot landed on his half-hard cock. James gasped. The pain and pleasure twisted in his gut and his dick stiffened even more.

“You have been very obedient, James.” Damien said, bouncing his foot and eliciting a small grunts from James. “But I think you can do better.” Damien took off his foot.

“What do I have to do, Master?”

Damien told him.

James bit his lip.

There was a box that had appeared while he’d been occupied with his ablutions. He went to it now. The lid opened smoothly on oiled hinges. He found the things he needed easily. Set them on the sofa next to Damien who had returned to his book.

James striped all the way down. Folded his clothes neatly. From the kitchen he got a bag of ice. Kneeling on the floor at Damien’s feet he pressed the ice without hesitation to his hard cock. He hissed between his teeth. When he was soft he took the cock cage and set it in place, locking himself up tight. A syringe full of lube went in his slit and filled the narrow hole. The sound entered smoothly and the wide rubber top plugged him up. The small lock that kept it in place used the same key that opened the bands around his shaft and balls.

He set the key on the arm of the sofa, spread his legs wide, and clasped his wrists behind his back, and settled in breathing steadily.

No thoughts. No desires. Just waiting. Waiting for Damien. Nothing else mattered but pleasing Damien. And Damien wanted him to be obedient.

The soft sound of the book closing drew his attention, but he didn’t move, didn’t lift his eyes.

“Well done, James.” Damien caressed his cheek. “Just a little more.” Damien got up and went to the box. “Lie back on the floor. Hands under your ass, feet under the sofa.”

James did as he was bid, trapping his feet and hands. He closed his eyes and breathed. The crop whistled slightly as it made its way down. It struck his cock hard. His whole body convulsed. His cry was a short, harsh thing. He kept his hands and feet where he was told.

“Good boy.” Damien whispered and hit him again.

James lost count, he drifted, crying out with each blow but never making a move to stop it, not even then Damien turned the crop on his torso, striking his nipples and abdomen. He burned. Each blow was a welt that radiated fiery pain and furious pleasure and he floated on the combination. He was never sure how long it went on before Damien stopped, knelt and thrust his cock in James’ mouth.

James let his throat relaxed for Damien’s pleasure. When Damien was done using him, he let James up, told him to dress and take his gun. They went out, James’ cock still caged and plugged. When they passed the threshold of the warehouse they were lord and knight again, James a bodyguard to the man who would rule the world.

It was easy to switch from slave to guard, to switch his mindset from Damien-who-must-be-obeyed-and-pleased to Damien-who-must-be-watched-and-protected.

Simone knew as soon as she saw him. She moaned and touched the mark just visible above the collar of his v-neck.

“Will he only fuck you now?” she asked.

“I don’t know.”

“Be sure. Make it so he only wants to fuck you. Then he’ll be safe. Safer.” She corrected herself.

He would have tired. Would have walked naked for the rest of his life with his captured cock displayed for the world to see if only to be the only one in Damien’s bed. But Damien had first wanted James when he was jealous. He should have seen it coming.

“ _Damien_ ,” she moaned his name, breathy and high pitched. Fake. She wasn’t enjoying it. And neither was Damien. James could tell. It was bad sex, but that didn’t stop Damien. He just kept rocking his hips into her, fucking her to a completion that would be unsatisfying. She kept glancing at James, distracted by his presence but not willing to object to a paying customer. James was kneeling on the very foot of the bed, hands obediently on his thighs, cock red in its cage, mouth spread wide over a red ball gag. He shuddered.

Damien had her knees hooked over his elbows, his cock was hard and slick as it thrust in her, as uncaring of her pleasure as she as of his. James flexed his hands.

Damien looked over his shoulder then and smiled. James swallowed, saliva running down his chin. It changed.

Her moans hitched, confused and then redoubled, real now. Damien shifted on his knees and then he was fucking her, really giving it to her and she was loving it. And Damien was starting to enjoy himself too now.

James burned. What was a whore to a willing slave? Anything Damien wanted he would give. No need to give him pleasure to receive pleasure in return. If James didn’t enjoy it, it didn’t matter; Damien would. That was what mattered. Damien’s pleasure was all that mattered in the world. Who was a whore to only give a good performance when she was being pleasured in return? No one had that right, not even James.

Damien finished in her, pulled out leaving her unfinished. She nearly protested. James watched her open her mouth to call him back and then, reluctantly, close it. His rage and jealously burned higher. She made to get up, but Damien pushed her back down. She went, wary.

“James,” Damien said and pressed a kiss to his temple, hand stoking his back. “You’re angry. I can tell. This whore took your place tonight.” Damien smiled at him. “Do you think she was good enough?”

James shook his head.

“Do you think you can do better?”

James nodded.

“How are you going to do that?”

James whimpered and bit his gag.

“I’ll tell you.”

James shuddered as Damien told him what to do.

“Well then, go ahead.”

James dragged the screaming whore off the bed and beat her to death with his fists. She tried to go for the gun in her purse, but James had taken it out when she and Damien had been undressing. On the bed Damien watched dick stiffening slowly under his stoking hand.

“Well done,” Damien whispered to a bloody James, curled up in his lap, sucking his cock. “Soon,” he promised as he came down James’ throat. “Soon you’ll earn my cock in your ass. And then you’ll be mine.”


End file.
